18 Years Later
by lizzie618
Summary: A short one-shot moment happening in the office of the Head of Hogwarts, taking place 18 years after the Battle.


**AUTHOR'S NOTE: I do not own any of the characters in the Harry Potter universe. **

18 Years Later …

Harry paused at the door before entering. It'd been 18 years since last he had crossed this threshold. That day, after the battle was done, when he came into this office and spoke to Albus Dumbledore's portrait. When he told Ron and Hermione what happened in the Forbidden Forest. 18 years and yet just being at Hogwarts brought it all back.

He'd been up a few times since then. Once, a year after the battle – which was now being referred to in history as The Battle of Hogwarts – for a ceremony honouring those who had lost their lives fighting Voldermort's forces. Harry himself, feeling vastly uncomfortable, had given an address. Ginny and Hermione seemed to feel it was necessary that he make remarks. He had lain a wreath on the memorial erected there. Some two dozen stark, white limestone pillars, arranged in a semi-circle with a flame in the middle. Each pillar, about a metre high, was engraved with the name of one who fought and died that day.

Other times Harry'd come up for less solemn reasons; a Christmas party; and tea with Neville after he'd been named Herbology professor. This time was different though. He was here for the first time as a parent, waiting to speak to the Headmistress.

Professor Sprout had sent him an owl and asked if he'd come up for tea to discuss "Concerns regarding James' up-coming first year at Hogwarts." It had been an informal, breezy note, very characteristic of the witch herself. When Harry had responded with an owl of his own asking what it was she felt needed to be discussed, Sprout's owl back had mentioned something about security. So, here he stood, waiting to knock on this door.

"Oi! Pokey!"

Harry started and turned toward the voice of the Gargoyle who'd spoken. "Yeah?"

"Headmistress is waitin' for you. You gonna stand here all day, then?"

"No. Good point". And with that, Harry knocked.

Professor Sprout's voice rang out almost immediately "Enter, if you please!"

Harry opened and stepped through the door and was relieved to see that the office was vastly different than when last he'd been there. Sprout had completely redecorated. The office was much airier and much greener with the addition of many new plants.

"Ah! Potter!" Professor Sprout looked up from the parchment she was writing.

"Good to see you, Professor."

"Yes well, do have a seat."

Harry sat down in the chair Professor Sprout had indicated, across from where she sat behind her desk.

"Tea, Potter?"

Harry acquiesced and business was gone about of pouring tea, did he want milk or lemon and would he like sugar? Eventually, Professor Sprout was seated back behind her desk and both she and Harry had before them a properly-prepared cup of tea.

Professor Sprout casually stated "I was hoping we could have a chat, you and I, about James."

"Ah, yes Professor. You indicated that you had some concerns about, what was it? Security?"

"Well, quite. James, as your son, is not free from notoriety, you know. As you, yourself, were not when you first came. Now, you and Ginny have done an excellent job, in my opinion, keeping your children out of the limelight and out of the Prophet and, god, The Toad. Clearly, they continue to print stories about you and your children. Well, Weasley's children, too. But you've kept your family quite private and I understand that. And I commend you."

There was a moment of silence wherein Professor Sprout seemed to be waiting.

"Er. Well, thank you?"

"Yes, well, never mind all that, " Professor Sprout plunged ahead, "the fact is, we, that is, some of the faculty, were wondering if you were quite ready, that is if James is quite ready, for the onslaught of attention he'll receive upon reporting here."

"Well, Professor," Harry began, "We've never made any secret about what happened. They know the history, and they know the stories. Well, at least the stories we've felt they're old enough for. And as for attention … I dealt with it. I guess James will find his place. And Albus, his place after that. And Lily after Albus. I don't think that'll be a problem."

"I'm sure you're right." Professor Sprout stated.

"But Professor, that's not why you really asked me here. You said something about security."

"Ah. Well." With that Professor Sprout seemed a bit uncomfortable. "Well, you know, there some … unsavory elements in the world Potter."

At that, Harry nearly laughed in her face. Unsavory elements?

"Professor, I'm the head of the Auror department. I catch dark wizards for a living. Yes, I'm aware there are unsavory elements."

"Yes and quite so. There are people who are not your fans. I mean, not Death Eaters of course," that phrase, on this warm May day, made something in Harry grow cold. Somethings you never forget … But Sprout was continuing, "but common, run of the mill dark wizards. Some of whom have loved ones in Azkaban, or walking around wandless due to your enforcement. And some of whom, again, have children at this very school. Like the head of any law enforcement agency, Potter, you're not without your enemies. But I can't remember the last time an Auror head had a child in school here. And we were wondering if you wanted to arrange any increased security for James."

Increased security? "What did you have in mind, Professor?"

"Oh, you know, escorts to and from class? That sort of thing? One can't be -"

At that moment they were interrupted by a knock at the door.

"Who on Earth?" Professor Sprout muttered, then stated, "Enter, if you please!"

A tall, freckled girl, woefully out of breath came rushed through the door, "Sorry, Headmistress! But Professor Beddington told me to come and get you. There's been an awful fight in the Potions –" at that moment she caught sight of Harry and was momentarily distracted.

"Well, Fionnula? A fight in Potions?"

"Um! Sorry! Yes, Headmistress. Jamey Brooks stuck his wand up Ronnie Imbrey's nose when Ronnie said Jamey's potion looked like his, Jamey's, mums – "

"That will be enough Fionnula. Potter, please excuse me. I shall have this sorted out I'm sure in mere moments. First years …" she muttered as she swept past him, closing the door behind him.

Alone in the office there was no sound apart from the ticking of a clock on Professor Sprout's desk. Harry finally allowed his eyes to wander to the walls, to look at that which he had been avoiding. Portraits. Dozens of them. A portrait of every witch or wizard who ever was Headmaster or mistress of Hogwarts school. The spot right behind the current head's desk is reserved for the most recent Head. In this case a portrait with a lovely background of Scottish highlands, and a tartan trim held that spot. But Minerva McGonagall was not currently in her portrait. Harry knew she preferred to spend her time in the frame she had hanging at the Ministry. Many of the frames were empty. A sickeningly pastel pink coloured one held nothing but a few gamboling kittens. Harry knew for certain who its owner was. The large frame in which Albus Dumbledore's portrait resided showed that it's occupant was enjoying an afternoon nap. Harry communicated often enough with Dumbledore's other portraits that he didn't feel any particular loss in this case. He waved to Armando Dippet and then, without really meaning to, found himself staring eye to eye with the man who would have been his headmaster during his 7th year.

Severus Snape.

"Potter."

That single word. A way Snape had referred to him so many hundreds of times. So frequently filled with suspicion or contempt. Now filled with something different. Something much less easily defined.

"Professor Snape."

Not since the first day of Harry's first year had Snape's title, and the respect due it, come so easily to Harry's lips. But even though he'd not spoken to, and barely of, him for 18 years what he learned in the Pensive that day, that hard, bloody day, was emblazoned on his mind.

The two men stared at each other. Harry's mind raced over a million thoughts. Every scene he saw. Snape's childhood, his desperation, his steadfast and misguided love for Harry's mother. And Snape's self-loathing and torture that night on top of the Astronomy tower.

All these things Harry learned that night, after Snape died. None of this did he ever get to discuss with Snape. He wondered if Snape knew, or cared, how Harry'd made sure to clear his name in all accounts of Dumbledore's death; about his name being included in all lists of Order Of The Phoenix memberships, past and present; that Harry'd named his second son Albus Severus …

He wondered all these things and so many more. And he held eye contact with Snape's portrait and opened his mouth to speak. To say things he'd thought for so many years. To ask questions he'd wanted answers to. To demand explanations and details and suddenly all he could say, and all he needed to say, was,

"I'm sorry."

Snape remained silent, his expression inscrutable. But in that moment, Harry knew, Snape knew for what he was apologizing. And in the silence, and the unbreakable eye contact, an understanding passed between the two. For a moment it almost seemed as though Snape was going to speak. But the door opened then and the green eyes looked away from the black as Professor Sprout came back in the room.

"All sorted out, Potter, my apologies. A first year professor and two first year students. A firmer hand was needed I'm sure you understand."

"Absolutely, Professor." Harry looked towards Snapes portrait and was unsurprised to find it now empty.

"Anyway, Potter, as we were saying -"

"Professor Sprout, I'm not worried. I don't think James will suffer from the extra attention he may receive from his classmates. I'm sure he won't receive any preferential treatment from the faculty and that's all I care about. As for his safety within this castle, I've always known the safest place to keep anything was within it's walls. I'm satisfied with the castle's normal enchantments, and require nothing more, if you don't."

"Indeed. I merely thought I would raise the issue. If there's nothing more then I'll not keep you any longer than necessary, I'm sure you've work to do back at the Ministry? I thought so. I've arranged a fire down in the kitchens to attach to the Floo network for the afternoon, will that be sufficient?"

The witch and the wizard said their goodbyes and Harry took one last look around the room, pausing for a moment at Snape's empty frame before moving on. Just as his eyes slid past Dumbledore's portrait, he was almost certain he saw the man wink.

Smiling to himself, slightly, Harry turned and closed the door behind him.


End file.
